


Home for the Holidays

by orphan_account



Series: Hamilton Fics [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, For vick, Gift Fic, Hamiltrash Secret santa, Hangover, Headaches & Migraines, How Do I Tag, Hurt/comfort ???, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's Christmas Eve, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Secret Santa, This really went no where whoops, gaso, jeffmads - Freeform, mullette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alexander Hamilton is late for John Lauren's Christmas Eve party, antics ensue.
Alt title: plot? I don't know herAlt title 2: festive line break paloozaAlt title 3: The 1 Time Alexander Hamilton Fucked Up Majorly And That's ItAlt title 4: Alex Acts Like He Can Hold His Alcohol But He Really Can'tAlt title 5: festive alt title palooza





	

_Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose,Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, and folks dressed up like Eskimos…_

 

The Christmas song drifts over the radio, as the snow falls heavily from the sky, an orange glow hangs in the heavens above, an afterthought of the mercury lights on the ground below. Suddenly, slush is stirred up by a car rushing to a stop in front of a house decorated from head to toe with lights. A man steps out of the car, almost tripping over himself, laden with bags and gifts. 

 

That man is Alexander Hamilton.

 

And he is late for possibly the most important day of his life.

 

-

 

John Laurens looks out the window of his father’s grand house, sighing in disappointment. _It's just like Alex,_ he thinks, _to be late on Christmas Eve of all days._ He stands up from the window and attempts to merge with the hubbub in the living room, his extended family and friends have come to join him for the holidays. In the corner with rolls of wrapping paper stands Hercules Mulligan, a local tailor and good friend of John’s. Then there is Marquis de Lafayette, a french immigrant who moved to New York about 7 years ago who is tittering at Hercules’s side. Near the tree stands the 3 Schuyler sisters, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. They’ve always been a major part of John’s life, as they work in the same building as him, as well as the same profession. Working at a law firm has its perks.

 

Peggy is gushing over a small container, presumably filled with chocolates based on the label on top, and Angelica and Eliza are busy trying to sort out gifts.  
Near the fireplace are John’s parents, Henry and Eleanor Laurens, casting a slightly disapproving glance at Hercules and Lafayette, who are making a ruckus with the wrapping paper, trying and failing to wrap a box of beer. Sitting in a plush arm chair near the fireplace is Aaron Burr, who is sulking as he nurses a cup of eggnog. Across from him in the loveseat is Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, Thomas searing the whole room with a glare, and James gently rubbing his shoulder, attempting to calm him down. 

 

John isn't exactly sure why he invited Jefferson of all people, sure, he was his manager, but he was also an asshole. _Hospitality,_ John thinks.

 

Suddenly, there is a squeal of tires coming from outside, and John walks over to the large front window and draws open the heavy curtains.

 

On the sidewalk is Alex, grappling with gifts and bags as he attempts to walk to the front door. John scurries out of the house to help him, wincing as he steps on a patch of ice, producing a loud _crack._ He still hasn't salted the path, god knows why. 

 

He skids up to Alex and offers a hand, grabbing a few bags whilst steadying Alex by the shoulder. A few steps at a time, they manage to get inside and slam shut the door.

 

“Quite the entrance, huh?” John says jokingly as he lowers the gifts down.  
“Yes,” Interrupts Henry Laurens, “quite the show, Mr. Hamilton.” John can practically taste the venom laced in his father’s voice.

 

In his father’s words, his co-workers and friends were, and he quotes, “A reckless group of teenagers stuck in adult bodies, who know no common sense.” Which, coming from an outsider's perspective, was pretty correct, but when you’ve worked with these lovable idiots for 4 years, it’s hard not to like them, even Jefferson had his qualities, once in a blue moon.

 

_And Alex,_ John’s brain helpfully quips, _is the most lovable of them all._  
John dismisses that thought with a quick shake of his head and focuses his attention back on his father and Alex.

 

“Really, couldn't you of at least let John know you were going to be late?” Henry asks. John barely manages to not roll his eyes, in this weather, texting and driving would kill nearly anyone.  
“I didn't exactly know I'd be late, I was halfway here when the storm hit, and then there was traffic, and then I forgot to get gas earlier, _and then-_ ” Alex gets shut off with a joking “There he goes.” From Hercules.

 

“Cut me some slack,” Alex mutters. He quickly sheds his coat and scarf and places his gifts under the tree, then turns back to John. “Thanks for helping, do ya have any clue when dinner is due? Kinda forgot to eat breakfast and lunch.”

 

“Again?” John inquires, “You’re gonna starve at this point, you know.”  
Alex starts to argue, but fortunately, the dinner bells rings from the dining room. Everyone eventually files in, and dinner is served.

 

More plates than Alex can count file in and out of the kitchen,  
and for the company that's in the room, surprisingly cheerful conversation is held. _Probably the Christmas spirit,_ Alex thinks. No point in being bitter during the holidays, though it seems Thomas wants to challenge that notion, still holding an icy glare.

 

Dinner finishes in a flash, and then the _real_ fun begins, that fun primarily being alcohol. Lafayette has brought plenty of fancy french wine, and John’s family has some cut rate booze. Hercules, the self proclaimed “Man of the hour” had broughten in some sweet, sweet vodka. Alex didn't know what is friends who weren't drinking were going to do, but he was already 5 shots of vodka in, so perception was beginning to become fuzzy.

 

Christmas music blasts from the speakers in the living room, and ESPN is on the widescreen TV above the fireplace. Hercules and Lafayette yell at the football game, squeezing next to James and Thomas on the couch. “Really,” Thomas comments, “I don't get the appeal, all they do is run around and tackle each other for some pig skin. What's the point?”

 

“The point _is,_ ” Hercules barks, “Let us enjoy the game.” And he fixes Thomas with a glare as he take a swig from his bottle. Thomas huffs, then curls backs up in James’ arms. Alex walks over to John and leans on his shoulder. John stiffens for a second, but eventually relaxes and asks quietly, “You doing okay?” Alex turns his head and rests it in the crook of John’s shoulder and mumbles, “I think I'm beginning to form an artistic opinion of beer.”  
“Uh,”  
“I have a headache.” Alex slurs, “Can we go somewhere quieter?”

 

John swears he can feel his heart beating out of his chest, _calm down,_ he thinks, _it’s just the alcohol._

 

_Wait._

 

“We? As in us?” John asks nervously.  
“Uhh,” Alex says, “Yes? If I have to hear Jefferson complain about football one more time I'm going to shoot myself.”  
“Well I mean I guess but-”  
“Shh shh, go.”  
Alex grabs John’s sleeve and tugs him towards the stairs. Alex attempts to climb the first few steps, but ends up tripping. John hops around him and helps him up, ignoring the looks that the others give him as they hear the _thud_ from Alex falling. “Okay, c’mon, you are way more drunk than me.” And he half carries half drags him upstairs to his room. John situates Alex on his bed and leans on the bedpost.

 

“You can sleep in my room for tonight if you want, I have to get back to the party.” He says as he begins to exit the room.

 

“Wait,” Alex weakly calls out.

 

John hesitantly walks back in and stands in the doorway, “..Yeah?”

 

“Can you.. stay in here.. with me?”

 

John is surprised he hasn't passed out yet from sheer anxiety.

 

“Alex I’m not sure that's the best idea, you’re kinda extremely drunk.” “No I’m-s not.” Alex slurs.  
“Yes, you are.” John walks back in the room and sits on the edge of the bed. Alex sits up and scooches next to John, and he leans on John, sighing. “You’re really pretty, you know.” 

 

_What._

 

“Like.. like your hair is so nice and curly and, I really love your freckles you know.” Alex does a drunken gesture. “Your eyes.”

 

John is sweating bullets as Alex wraps his arms around John’s torso and nuzzles his head into his shoulder. _He’s extremely drunk and this would never happen actually no never nope-_ and that’s when Alex murmurs, “Can you date me?”

 

“O-kay you need need to stop right now,” John says in a rush.  
“What?” Alex asks.  
“You can't actually like me I-” John looks at the door, “You’re just drunk, Alex please just go to sleep so I can get back to the party.” 

 

Alex looks hurt.

 

“Y’know just because I _might_ be a bit drunk,” Alex rubs his face, “Doesn't mean I'm _stupid._ I know what I'm doing.”

 

John sighs.

 

“Sorry Alex.. I…” John trails off to a whisper, “I do actually really like you, I don't want you to regret anything.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Can we hug for real now?”

 

John can't say no.

 

Alex wraps his arms around John and pulls him close, and then John can finally relax. Alex slowly leans backwards on the bed until they’re laying side by side. John is careful not to overstep his boundaries, and lets Alex drift off after a gentle “Goodnight.”

 

-

 

_Curse the sun,_ Alex struggles to form the thought in his head, _curse it and all of this noise and light and ugghhh,_

 

It is morning, and Alexander Hamilton has a headache.

 

He slowly, achingly, turns his body around to face the other direction, and that's when he sees the wide-eyed John Laurens. 

 

_What the hell?_

 

-

 

_Curse the Christmas season,_ John angrily thinks, _curse it and alcohol and for making stupid people do stupid things._

 

He snaps open his eyes to see if Alex is somehow still in his room, and even less likely, still laying in his bed, and to John’s surprise, Alex is in fact on his bed and is _awake._ Morning sun streams from the window across his room, and the light catches in Alex’s hair as he turns, and he may appear bed ragged, but he is still beautiful.

 

It is morning, and John Laurens is in love.

 

“Good morning.” John softly whispers.

 

Alex lets out a groan, then he rasps, “How drunk was I last night?”  
“Pretty drunk.”  
“Did I say anything stupid?”  
John smiles. “Maybe.”  
Alex is quiet for a few moments. “Are we..”  
“Are we what?”  
“Are we… together?”

 

John looks away and mumbles, “I’m not sure.”

 

“If we aren't already.. can we be?”

 

It takes a moment, but John laughs, “Yes, yes we can.”

 

Alex curls up closer next to John, and he buries his head into John’s neck, trying to avoid the light and sound of the slowly waking world. John hums contentedly and softly kisses Alex’s forehead, trying to ignore the loud thudding in his chest.

 

-

 

John isn't exactly sure when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, he's being aggressively shaken awake by sleep deprived Aaron Burr. “Come on you two, it's half past 11 and if one more person asks me where you are I think I might actually lose it.” John groggily lifts his head. “What?”

 

Aaron groans in frustration, and he grabs John by the arm and has him sit up. Alex quickly follows. “Why hello Burr, care to join us?” he asks sarcastically.

 

Aaron ignores him and passes him a cup of water with some Alka Seltzer in it. “Just come downstairs when you’re ready.” And he leaves.

 

John turns to look at Alex, “ _Care to join us?_ Alex? Really?” And Alex just shrugs.

 

John sighs, “Well, merry Christmas I guess. Sorry it wasn't the best.”

 

Alex gives him a strange look. “What do you mean? I think this has been one of my best Christmases in a long time.” And he leans forward and kisses John on the nose. John returns the favor by slowly, gently, kissing Alex’s lips with his own.

 

Merry Christmas indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I hope y'all enjoyed this, thing. Merry Christmas!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> gaso


End file.
